


There's a Light (Over At The Frankenstein Place)

by Pres310



Category: Brimstone Valley Mall (Podcast)
Genre: Asmoraius is so smitten, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Movie Night, Other, Trent is trying his best, lipstick stains, poly demons and their human boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28001700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pres310/pseuds/Pres310
Summary: It's a movie night! Our two poly demons and their human boyfriend sit down for a pleasant night at home.
Relationships: Asmoraius/Misroch (Brimstone Valley Mall), Asmoraius/Misroch/Trent (Brimstone Valley Mall), Asmoraius/Trent (Brimstone Valley Mall)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	There's a Light (Over At The Frankenstein Place)

**Author's Note:**

> This is made for an audience of one (1) person and that person is me.
> 
> Based off of something a pal of mine said in a discord server!

“It's movie night, my Loves!”

  
Misroch barely processed the words being spoken as they glared down at the popcorn heating on the stove like an angry god. Shoulders scrunched up, they grumbled to themself as they fiddled with the seasoning and popping kernels in the pan with their pointy stiletto nails. 

  
“Misroch, Dear, we’re about to start the movie-”

  
“Just a minute, Asmo,” Misroch muttered, staring down at the pan. Just a few more minutes. The popcorn would be done in a few more minutes.

  
The hum of the stove and the popping of corn kernels almost entranced the short demon. It was repetitive, warm, and comforting- the familiarity of the stove calmed them. Most of the time. Today, however, was different- their features and shoulders scrunched up, tense with potential energy. The air around them was crackling and staticky, which became immediately apparent to Trent as he entered the kitchen.

  
Trent hadn't known Misroch for long- they were both happily dating Asmoraius of their own volition, but they were both fairly new to each other- but he could tell when Misroch was being their usual temperamental self and when something was bothering them. Walking up to the demon carefully, he tentatively tapped them on the shoulder (was them being a demon what made their skin so warm? They felt almost feverish).

  
“What?” Misroch’s eyes finally tore away from the stove. Trent kept his expression open, soft.

  
“Asmoraius is about to start the movie- you alright?” He asked. Misroch seemed to form a biting response before dropping it. Their shoulders slowly untensed, relaxing.

  
“Just a hard day at work,” they said, before turning back to the finished popcorn. They sighed as they poured it into a metal bowl, before spilling some as Trent set a hand on their shoulder.

  
“Hey-” he began “-Asmo and I are here for you. If you want to talk about it, of course,” Trent offered his usual smile. Instead of snapping at that, Misroch seemed… nervous? Troubled? Whatever it was, it didn't last long. Misroch sighed, and they seemed to age ten years in the span of one sigh.

  
“Maybe later,” They muttered. “I'm fucking exhausted.”

  
And that was that. The two arrived back in the living room to a smiling, relaxed Asmoraius, languidly curled up limply on the cheap sofa. His head rested comfortably on the couch cushions, exposing the smooth arch of his neck, and Misroch was pretty sure their brain stopped working completely for a few moments at that sight. It was something about an oversized polo and some fishnets that just… worked on Asmoraius. Trent might have agreed.

  
“Thank you, Dove,” Asmoraius accepted the bowl of popcorn, seeing as how he was sitting in the middle of the two. On his right, Trent was wrapped up in a blanket, fingers gently ghosting over Asmoraius’s knuckles. On his left was Misroch, who was… strangely a bit more cuddly than usual. Asmoraius didn't ask, he simply let his partner bury their face in his shoulder as he tossed an arm around them. He knew that Misroch needed moments like this- as grumpy as they were, they really were a sucker for affection and praise. Satan, they sucked up praise like a sponge.

  
The movie was some tacky 70s slasher that nobody was really paying attention to. Their original plan had been to take Trent to his first midnight viewing of “Rocky Horror Picture Show”, but funnily enough, the storms outside were too bad to drive in. Asmoraius mourned the loss of that plan- he’d even laced himself into his nicest antique corset and it had been too long since he’d tenderly and homoerotically applied makeup to Misroch’s face. Speaking of Misroch’s face and makeup… 

  
A small collection of lipstick stains began to collect on the shorter demon’s cheeks and forehead as the night went on. Trent, as well, but Trent was a much less tactile person. Also, he knew how to wash Asmoraius’s dark lipstick off.

  
Misroch, evidently, did not. Or did not care to learn, for as much fuss as they put up about it.

  
And if the expert chef of Weiner World showed up to work with red and pink smears across their cheeks and forehead the next morning, nobody seemed to comment on it (must be some new weird goth trend, most had rationalized).


End file.
